Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Suriname and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Chris Corsano to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeff Lynne,
Joey Negro,
Swans,
Boredoms,
Lebanon Hanover,
Colin Newman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gladiators,
These Immortal Souls,
Basic Channel,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
UT,
10cc,
Malaria!,
Gerry Rafferty,
Neu!,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tropical Tobacco,
Livin' Joy,
Con Funk Shun,
The Divine Comedy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sällskapet,
The Barracudas,
Magazine,
Dark Day,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Seeds,
Amazonics,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anakelly,
Camberwell Now,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Albert Ayler,
Jeff Mills,
Babytalk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dave Gahan,
Angry Samoans,
The Fugs,
Heaven 17,
Zero Boys,
Liliput,
John Foxx,
Half Japanese,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Intrusion,
Wally Richardson,
Barrington Levy,
Model 500,
Tommy Roe,
Jacob Miller,
KRS-One,
Fluxion,
Danielle Patucci,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.